Bone Appetit!

Chef Nosey at your service!

It's the most wonderful time of the year for us Stage Mothers. Halloween is fast approaching  (Well, a month and a half away is close enough for me!) and it is time to decide what to dress Nosey as for Halloween.  

This is a great, big deal at our house and since indecisive is my middle name, I just buy costumes as I see them.  Today, I found a chef's costume at Target and it was so darned cute (and only $13 including the hat!), I got it.  Within minutes, I had it on her and *SNAP*, here's the money shot!

What do you think?

The Horror of Wet Paws!

LET ME IN!!!!!!!

The sign that hangs outside our front door.

"Hold still, I have to wipe your paws!" That's the rainy day mantra here at the Newbold residence. Nag, thy name is Marsie. At the first sign of rain, I get a special towel out and drape it over the front door handle. That way I'm armed and ready.

There are only five hard and fast doggie rules at our house. They are:

1. No nipping, biting or growling.
2. Do your "business" outside. No peeing or pooping in the house.
3. No chewing up anything that is not a "chewie" designed for that purpose. (This goes double when it comes to your mother's shoes.)
4. Stay out of the trash cans.
5. Wait to get your paws wiped if they are wet or muddy BEFORE you enter the house.

None of these is negotiable. But reason flies out the window the moment it rains or snows. You see, Nosey  doesn't like to get her paws wet.  (Just like Nipper who came before her.)

But, technically, that's not true. When we are taking walks she makes a beeline for and jumps into every puddle she sees. But for some reason, in her furry little mind, she has decided that walking outside to go to the bathroom and getting the bottom of her feet wet with rain or snow has a decided "yuck" factor. It reminds me of the character "Sheldon" in CBS's "The Big Bang Theory." Nosey has arbitrary "rules" that may not make sense to anybody else, but they can't be broken.

So, Nosey refuses to go outside when it is wet out unless she is literally pushed, and she puts the brakes on. A 60 lb. Basset Hound can make herself dead weight if she wants. A simple thing like going outside to go to the bathroom turns into a BIG production. Between you and me, I suspect she has kidneys made of cast iron and could hold "it" indefinitely. It's one of those things where your mother makes you wear a sweater because she's cold? I make her go when I fear that she'll die of uremic poisoning.

Then, once she's outside she acts as though she's walking on eggshells or hot coals, lifting each paw v-e-r-y-s-l-o-w-l-y. Once she's found the perfect spot and done her business, she comes to the door, then tries to run from me when I try to catch her. Just the sight of the towel makes her start channeling her inner greased pig. Finally, she falls to the ground like one of those protesters you see on tv, who go totally limp in shows of passive resistence.

The things we do for love (and to avoid shampooing the carpet!)

Nosey in the Snow! (Or, what a difference a year makes!)

All Pets Poop, Pee AND Slobber!

It's true!!!!

Believe it!  It happens in the nicest of homes...even MINE!!!!

Here's living proof!  Nosey slobbering on the bed sheets on my husband's side of the bed.  I made it fresh the day before.  Hey, it'll dry.  But I have my standards...slobber can stay but poop, pee and puke and muddy paw prints warrant stripping the bed.  Now you know.  Call the Board of Health if you don't like it!  ;)

Yup, it's true. As surely as all dogs go to heaven, they poop, pee, puke, slobber, shed and apply "shnozzy" nose-print smudges to sparkling-clean windows, mirrors and eyeglass lenses.

Even though this is factual statement, I have had dogs all of my life and can't imagine living one day without one. (And, I'm not certifiably crazy yet!) All I can say is thank goodness for paper towels, carpet cleaning machines, stain sticks, Dustbusters, lint brushes and Windex.

You can't have a dog or any other type of pet without a sense of humor, because even the most perfectly housebroken ones make mistakes once in awhile. Big ones. Once, years ago I threw a fancy cocktail party that took days to plan and hours to clean and prepare for. (Think Martha Stewart obsessive-compulsive here, people.) The night of the big soiree, my Cocker Spaniel, Amanda, walked into the party, sauntered over to one of our friends (the one who just happened to be a Veterinarian of course), gazed soulfully into his eyes, squatted and peed at least a gallon (well, it seemed that much to me at the time) onto the wall-to-wall carpeting. Nice. As you can imagine, "Mommy" nearly dropped the silver tray of cocktail wienies she was holding. I must have looked so elegant on my hands and knees mopping up that mess in my little black dress and pearls; like some demented June Cleaver, but I digress...

Oh, and another time I was selling a house and had everything prepped for the Realtor to show the potential buyers (including baking cookies so the place would smell all homey) and my Border Collie, Zero, threw up all over the master bedroom carpeting just as the doorbell rang. (Yup, that added just the right "homey" touch.) Then, there was the other Cocker Spaniel (Goldie) who exploded a "Bowel Bomb" inside my new car just because I dared to leave her (with the windows cracked on a cool fall afternoon) in the car for five minutes to dash into the post office. That was one long, stinky ride home with all the windows down. Talk about a "special delivery"...

Bottom line? Thank goodness for their adorably fuzzy little faces and loyal dispositions, because sometimes when I'm standing at the sink, running yet another bucket full of hot-sudsy water and snapping on my rubber gloves, I wonder why we even give them houseroom. But that thought never lasts.

What can I say except that I'm a sucker for a waggily tail...

Home Baked Doggie Treats!

Just out of the oven...

I made my "neighborhood-famous" peanut butter dog cookies today and Nosey couldn't be happier.  They're quick, easy and fun!  

Here's the recipe:

Marsie's Menagerie Peanut Butter Doggie Biscuits

The official taste tester!  

(Makes about 2 dozen depending on the size of your cookie cutters)

Ingredients

• 3 cups whole wheat flour
• 2 Tbsp. olive oil
• 1/2 cup crunchy peanut butter
• 2 large eggs
• 1 cup water
• Cooking spray

Method

• Preheat oven to 325 degrees.
• Spray cookie sheet with non-stick cooking spray.
• Combine ingredients in a large mixing bowl. (I do it with my hands and wear non-latex medical gloves.)
• Mix until ingredients form a ball.
• Roll out on a floured surface (about 1/4 inch thickness).
• Cut out shapes with cookie cutters.
• Place cookies on cookie sheet and place in oven.



Looks like Nosey got caught with her head in the cookie jar!!!!

• Bake for 25 minutes and cool on rack.

Animal Crackers in My Soup...and Psyche

Lions and tigers and bears...  Oh, my!!!

As much as I love them, I can’t look at a package of animal crackers without flinching. Why? Well, sit back because I’m going to tell you.

It all started on the first day of kindergarten. We were given construction paper nametags with an animal cracker glued on for decoration. The teacher had us sit cross-legged on the floor while she gave a little welcome speech that I must not have been listening to very closely because I was busy eating the animal cracker off of my nametag. Well, more like gnawing, since I didn’t even bother to take it off. But, what I did hear quite plainly was, “Make sure to wear your nametags to school tomorrow.”

I looked down at mine in horror. There was nothing but a big, wet slobber mark where the animal cracker used to be.

Well, now I’d done it! Obviously I couldn’t go back to school because I’d eaten the animal cracker off of my nametag. Only five years old and my life was ruined. It was just the first day and already I’d flunked out. Better I had died in my cradle than to put my family through such shame. (My drama queen tendencies started very early.)

Mother was ever-practical. “We’ll just buy a box of animal crackers and glue one on to replace the one you ate,” she reasoned. More panic. I couldn’t remember exactly what kind of animal had been on that darned nametag. Nothing she or my father said could convince me that I wouldn’t get graded on that sort of thing.

While the replacement animal cookie dried on my nametag, I spent a restless night in my canopy bed tossing, turning and going over different scenarios in my mind. I just knew that Mrs. Pogue was going to greet me at the door asking: “Marsie Hall, is that a buffalo on your nametag? Where is the elephant that was assigned to you? What have you done with it? Speak up! What’s that you say? YOU ATE IT? Do you realize what you have done? You are a disgrace to the morning kindergarten. Pack up your crayons and get out. Never darken the door of Robert D. Johnson grade school ever again!”

Mother drove me to school the next day. I wanted her to wait and keep the car running so I could make a quick escape, but the teacher never noticed.

Imagine that!

SHOWTIME!

Here's Nosey checking out her Mommy's favorite Christmas present, a red ukulele. 


Here's the plan, I'm going to learn how to play it and Nosey is going to learn to dance on her hind paws.  We'll work up an act, find a street corner and ta-da...  People will throw coins into the open ukelele case and we'll be rich!  I might even get us matching outfits.  


A psychic once told me that in a past life I was an organ grinder's monkey.  Perhaps the universe is truly unfolding according to plan.  


Well, time's a wastin'.  Gotta go rehearse...  Now, where is Nosey?  She was here just a minute ago.